


we, who sleep with our anger

by orphan_account



Series: (it fills me with) a kind of rage [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, M/M, Stand Alone, Trauma, most of the things max does here are trauma responses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He had walked without a destination in mind, and yet he had found himself there. Kimi had invited him over the weekend before and having a double-header, his body had imagined his suit would stay the same.
Relationships: Kimi Räikkönen/Max Verstappen
Series: (it fills me with) a kind of rage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129196
Kudos: 5





	we, who sleep with our anger

**Author's Note:**

> **please, read the tags and don't go on if you aren't comfortable with this kind of content. I'm saying this for you, take care of yourself.**

The sound of his steps was so heavy he could imagine the pavement forming holes at his passage. His face tickled in the way skin does when it has been hit over and over. And he was grateful for the barely lit hallway, a welcomed veil against the possibility of someone seeing him and commenting. Max had guessed with the passing of time that people had to speculate about how his father tempered showed itself. But no one had ever seen him in those conditions, hiding his second layer now.

When his legs stopped, he was as shocked as unsurprised. He had taken off from his hotel room as soon as his father had left, thinking that a walk could help him maintain a semblance of control. If he could put a foot in front of the other, he was still in charge of something. He had walked without a destination in mind, and yet he had found himself there. Kimi had invited him over the weekend before and having a double-header, his body had imagined his suit would stay the same.

Knocking seemed out of the question. Max had never shown up that way: it was always Kimi that made sure to let him know when he was interested in his presence, in his body. Max had never dared to be the one looking for him after those first times. His juvenile need to chase Kimi, disappearing when he realized Kimi wanted a type of control a love-sick puppy wasn’t able to give. Kimi had called him that once, and Max had never forgotten. Kimi was convinced he could hide these meetings, but he didn’t think as highly of Max.

A faint sound on his right startled him, and when he looked in that direction, he almost made eye contact with an older lady. She didn’t seem to care nor acknowledge him, but it was enough to convince him to knock. Maybe the woman didn’t know who he was, but he couldn’t hold so much fate in anyone else who was staying on that floor. Having Kimi get angry at him seemed more sensible than being recognized.

His knuckles hit the door, forming a gentle vibration. He could hear some ruffling on the other side, and he braced himself for the reaction he was about to get. Nervousness washed over him, his heart rising to his throat and sweat coming out of his palms. But he would have lied if he hadn’t admitted that it was all combined, if not overpowered by an excitement not even race cars could give him.

“Hi.”

His voice was so low that he asked himself if Kimi had heard it. He was standing in the door frame with a blank face as if even sparing a look to Max would be excessive. Years had passed since they had met, Max had known him for most of his life, and still understanding his gaze was impossible. From time to time, hearing him being called Iceman seemed so right that it almost didn’t seem corny.

“Can I come inside? I wouldn’t want someone to see me, us.”

He took an imperceptible step back to make space for Max’s passage. He didn’t seem bothered per se, but Max wasn’t sure he could tell either way. As long as Kimi didn’t order him to leave, Max was ready to act as if everything was normal. 

Kimi sat on his unmade bed, making Max realize he had interrupted his tentative to sleep. The sun outside had set time before, and Max hadn’t even noticed, so scared by his father and then so angry he couldn’t see past his nose.

The realization that he had unconscionably replaced his father with Kimi again pushed an acid taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it back down. His father wasn’t Kimi, and Kimi wasn’t his father. Similar, but not the same. It sounded like a white lie told to a child, but Max had to repeat it every so often not to question the connotation of it all.

“I’m sorry for showing up this way. I had a fight with Jos, and this was the first place I could think of going.”

Silence fell again between them. Max wasn’t sure of what reaction we would have wanted, but that quietness felt more accusatory than he would have liked. Going there had been a bad idea, and it had taken him that much to realize.

“What do you want me to do with that? Do I look like your mom?”

Shivers went down Max’s back, and he hated the way his body was already reacting to Kimi’s stern voice. He was looking at him with so much disinterested and annoyance. And Max couldn’t think about anything else besides how nice it would have been if it had been Kimi who had bitten him and not his father.

**Author's Note:**

> well, I'm back. I did say I was probably going to write more about these two, and here we are. (yes, I'm not in anon anymore, got over myself.)  
> please, do let me know what you think about it.
> 
> the title is from _Ahead of All Parting_ by Rainer Maria Rilke.


End file.
